Oh shoot!  I flip through the book to find where I left off and remember how I’d dog-eared the page from my read before.  I hate that I do that, I really do need to find a bookmark… pulling open my nightstand drawer I start to rummage.  There’s got to be something in here I could use.  An old hospital bracelet?  No, that’s not a pleasant memory.  An empty penny rolling sleeve?  No, money stresses me out. Ah, here we go… I found a folded piece of white paper about the size of a business card.  I’m not a fancy person, so this’ll do.  I almost didn’t stop to open up the paper at all, and then I did.

In this note was scrawled a messy version of a poem I’d written maybe two years ago.  I had completely forgotten that I’d even written it.  Like my new bookmark, it’s nothing fancy but I thought I’d share it.  The verse is me reflecting about the many times I found myself hiding in a closet and how God met me there before I even realized He existed. (Read a blog post about that closet here.)

You knew MY name,
I only then knew your VOICE.
You gave me everything,
spared me from so much– I can at minimum give you me.
Now that I at least know what people call you…
Has it really been you all along?
Have you been “the one”?
Have those been your arms holding me,
comforting me?
I bet it was you that day…
when I fell to the ground,
when I was in pain,
when I wanted to be weak,
when I heard a voice telling me to fight… not to give up.
I bet it was you.
I know it was you,
because I recognized your voice.
And now we both know each other’s names.
So I have to say,
It’s just really nice to meet you.

May this blog serve as an education to those who do not yet know or understand the atrocities of trafficking and may it serve as an encouragement to those who understand it all too well.

(Post originally written 3/6/12)
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